by Cassie Cole
“Oh. I’d rather you grade my papers. Melanie seems… uptight?”
“Sorry. That’s the price you pay for sticking your dick in the faculty. Although I’m kind of jealous. I want to be the one to read what you write about the Roman Empire.”
“I’ll send you a copy for your own enjoyment.” He grunted. “Speaking of jealousy, you seemed awfully curious about my date earlier.”
“Maybe a little bit,” I admitted.
“You know I’m still stripping on the weekends. Does that bother you?”
I pictured Zack dancing for other women and searched my feelings. The way he shook his ass in their faces, cock bouncing up and down in his thong. The way their fingers touched him, running up and down the abs where my hand was currently resting, giggling as he licked whipped cream off their tits…
“Doesn’t bother me at all,” I lied. “It’s your job. There’s nothing to be jealous about. You can do whatever you want.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
“If that changes in the future,” he said, “let me know.”
The future. The word hung in the air like a promise. Or a threat.
I drifted to sleep on his chest and wondered what the future had in store for us.
15
Finn
I loved stripping.
Not the act itself. That was alright. I was good at it, but it was just a means to an end. What I really loved was turning women on. Watching their eyes widen with lust and imagining their pussies getting wet at the sight of me. It was a powerful, addictive feeling.
It was a Thursday night. I normally didn’t work weekdays but the customer was paying extra. It was another bachelorette party. Weird to have one on a Thursday, but what did I care? Money was money.
The women were young. College students, members of the Zetas sorority based on the shit on the walls of their house. And they were hot. Skimpy dresses with lots of cleavage. It was a circle of big tits and pouty lips. No offense to the older ladies I stripped for, but this crowd was every male stripper’s dream.
They were drunk by the time I arrived and only got wilder as I danced. They were more handsy than was allowed, but I didn’t stop them. The more fun they had, the bigger tips I got.
Besides, I didn’t mind some fingers on my cock or lipstick on my ass. As far as I was concerned those were fringe benefits of the job.
They only paid for half an hour but I gave them forty minutes. They moaned and begged me to stay when I was done, but it was a Thursday and I had class in the morning.
The maid of honor, a bottle-blonde with tits that were definitely fake, came up to me as I gathered my things. She sounded like someone imitating a caricature of a sorority girl, and she gave me what she must have thought was her most seductive gaze.
“We think you should stay.”
“My time’s up,” I said. “Gotta pay if you want me to dance some more.”
One of her fake eyebrows rose. “We don’t want you to dance. How much would it cost for some real fun?”
It wasn’t the first time I had been propositioned by a customer, and it wasn’t the first time I had considered it. She crossed her arms under her chest, which practically made her tits pop out the top of her dress. She was tipsy, but she wasn’t slurring her words.
“What kind of fun are we talking?” I asked.
She smiled. “We want you to fuck each of us in here, in front of everyone, and then finish with the bride.”
I looked past her at the other four women. The maid of honor might not have been drunk, but the others definitely were. The bride was rolling on the floor in a fit of laughter. One of the others was trying to pour vodka in her friend’s mouth but the friend wasn’t paying attention, and the liquor went down her dress. They were what we called white-girl wasted.
“Pass,” I said.
The maid of honor took another step forward until her chest brushed against my arm. “Forget them. How much for an hour with just me?” She lowered her voice. “You can stick it anywhere you want.”
That made my cock move. Fake tits aside, this girl was a ten. Throw in her offer of doing whatever I wanted to her? It was tough to say no to.
Zack and I had standards. Sleeping with a client was a line we didn’t cross—whether for money or for free. But that line was looking awfully blurry right now. Zack had gone home with Jessica two weeks ago. What was wrong with me taking this sorority girl into the back room and giving her what she wanted?
Is it worth it? a voice whispered in my head. Zack crossed that line for Jessica. If you’re going to cross that line too, is this woman worth it?
The answer was as clear as the vodka being poured down the other girl’s dress.
I felt like an idiot as I drove home. Women turned down sex all the time, but for a guy to turn it down? It hurt. All I could think about were the filthy, depraved things I could have done to the sorority girl while her friends watched.
I parked at my apartment and walked to the door. Right before I got there I saw a familiar blonde figure approach from the other side. Jessica wore tight jeans that hugged her thighs and ass like a coat of paint, and her breasts bounced as she hurried toward the door. She was a hot little thing. I wished my professors looked like her.
Jessica didn’t seem to notice me. She was focused on something inside. She ran through the doors and practically leaped into the elevator. As I came around the corner I caught a glimpse of Zack in the reflection before the doors closed.
“Huh,” I muttered as I pressed the button to wait for the next car.
When I got to our apartment, it was empty. Zack wasn’t in his room and the bathroom was dark.
“Huh,” I muttered again.
I stripped my clothes—in a non-sexy way—and took a shower. Funny that Zack and Jessica were hooking up again. Just like I had predicted. I saw the look in my friend’s eyes the last time she was here, and I saw the same look in hers. They wouldn’t be able to keep their hands off each other. The only thing that surprised me was that they had lasted almost two weeks.
While the scalding water ran over my body, I imagined the girl from the bachelorette party and what I could have done with her. Bending her over the coffee table in the living room and fucking her while her friends cheered us on. My cock swelled at the thought, and I began stroking myself in the shower while fantasizing about the night that could have been. I fucked the girl doggy style while the other girls slapped my ass and ran their hands over my body. One of the girls pulled my cock out and sucked on it, then put it back in.
The maid of honor looked over her shoulder. “I said you could stick it anywhere.”
I gazed at her tight little asshole, puckered and waiting to be fucked. I pulled my cock out of her pussy and plunged it into her ass. The girls roared their approval around me. One of them wrapped her arms around me and kissed me, jamming their tongue into my mouth while I fucked her friend in the ass.
And then the woman I was kissing was Jessica.
I stroked myself faster at the thought.
Once she entered my mind I couldn’t get rid of her. In the blink of an eye we weren’t at a bachelorette party—we were in my bed, our bodies entangled while I plunged my cock into her pussy again and again. She wrapped her legs around me and squeezed me to her, eyes wide and demanding.
“You can stick it anywhere you want,” she moaned. “Anywhere.”
I groaned as my cock spasmed with pleasure. I planted my hand on the wall of the shower as I came, blowing my load all over the shower floor while the steam rose around me.
Fuck, that was intense, I thought as I finished my shower.
But Jessica lingered in my head the rest of the night until Zack eventually came home.
“You’re still up?” he asked when he saw me on the couch.
I muted the TV. “Got to hand it to you. I didn’t expect you to last two weeks.”
His keys jingled in the key bowl and he appeared at the foot of the
couch. “Two weeks? Tonight was my first date with Kenzie.”
I stared at Zack until he relented.
“How’d you know?” he asked.
“I’m your best friend. I know everything.” I hopped up. “What are you two going to do about your situation?”
“I’m not dropping the class. We’re going to try to keep it a secret.”
Fat chance of that, I thought. But what I asked him was, “Can you handle it? Being with your professor?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I know I can’t handle not being with her.”
There were a lot of things I had to say about that, but the image of Jessica was still fresh in my mind and I couldn’t bring myself to say anything.
“Was it good?” I asked.
“Dude.”
Zack wasn’t the kind of guy to brag about his sexual exploits beyond vague details. But after turning down some sorority girl sex I craved the dirty details.
I knew how to push Zack’s buttons, so I shrugged and said, “She looks like she would be boring in bed.”
The bait worked. “She’s far from boring. She has a…” He stopped himself. “She’s adventurous. Far more adventurous than I expected.”
You can put it anywhere you want.
“Like, butt stuff?” I ventured. “Some ass-play?”
That was too forward of a question for him to answer, and I knew it immediately. He rolled his eyes and started walking away.
“I’m going to bed.”
“What about a threesome?” I said.
Zack stopped. “You feeling left out?”
Jessica’s face appeared in my mind, red lips parting as she moaned. “Just saying. If she’s adventurous, I’d be down for that. Put me in, coach.”
“I can’t tell if you’re serious.”
I shrugged. “Never had a threesome before. Bet it’d be fun. And it’s not like I’ve never seen your ass. All I’m saying is keep it in mind if professor-booty-call wants to get real adventurous.”
Zack laughed. “Go to bed.”
But as he went into his room and closed the door, I could tell he was thinking about it.
16
Jessica
The first time with Zack was innocent. We were just two people who took an UberPool home together and hit it off for some meaningless sex. I had no idea who he was. It was a mistake. A fun mistake, but a mistake nonetheless.
But the second time? Both of us knew exactly what we were doing. I was his professor and he was a student in my history class. There was no ignoring our academic relationship.
And I loved every sweaty minute of it.
He was my student. It was forbidden.
Why did that make it so much hotter?
I knew I was risking everything for a little X-rated fun. My reputation, my career, my future. All of it was on the line.
I couldn’t bring myself to care.
After Zack left my apartment, the only thing I thought about was the next time we could be together.
And all the filthy things we would do.
To my surprise, class on Friday wasn’t weird. If anything there was less tension now that we had slept together again. He sat down in the third row and listened to my lecture like any other student, taking notes on his laptop. It was a fun little secret that the two of us shared.
And when class was over he gave me an extra-long smile before leaving the lecture hall.
I would have thought about him the rest of the day except that I had my first date with Dominic that night.
I was excited about that in its own right. My naughty little affair with Zack had awoken the sexual beast within me. I had forgotten how much I loved good sex, and a date with Dominic was an opportunity for more of it.
He was waiting outside my apartment that night. He was a sight to behold, wearing a full tuxedo complete with a bow tie. He was broad-shouldered and had a narrow waist. This wasn’t a kid wearing his father’s suit—Dominic filled every inch of the tux with his muscular frame. His brown hair was combed to perfection.
“Look at you,” he said as I approached. “You’re a picture of beauty, Jessica.”
“Me? Look at you. Did you get James Bond’s tailor?”
He stuck his hands in his pockets. “That dress is stunning.”
I did a little twirl in my peach-colored evening gown. “You said to dress fancy, so I dressed fancy. Where are we going?”
He flashed two tickets from his pocket. “Campus presentation of Phantom of the Opera.”
“Oh!” I said. “That sounds fun. And it explains the tux.”
He stuck out his arm. “Shall we?”
Dominic escorted me to his car and held the door for me like a perfect gentleman. We drove three miles to campus and parked in the lot outside the theater building. I had never been to a musical before, but I was excited to try something new. Especially on a fancy date with Dominic.
As soon as we walked inside we realized we were over-dressed. The students taking our tickets were the most well-dressed people in the theater. I saw a handful of button-down shirts, a lot of polos, and even more t-shirts. Most of the patrons—of all ages—wore jeans. Dominic and I stood out.
“This must be how Queen Elizabeth feels when she arrives at an event,” Dominic whispered to me.
I leaned into him and whispered back, “Seriously. Don’t these people know not to stare?”
“How about this: let’s ignore them,” Dominic said. “We look amazing and that’s all that matters.”
I grinned up at him. “I like that idea.”
We took our seats in the center section and then the show began.
Even though I had never been to a musical before, I always assumed I would enjoy them. I liked music. I liked dancing. Put them together and I should have liked the result.
But this… It was just okay. There were some cool stage effects, like the broken chandelier which came to life and rose up to the ceiling at the beginning. The rest was just okay. The music, the acting, the over-dramatization…
By the time intermission hit I was yawning into my palm.
We bought glasses of wine out in the lobby during intermission and sipped quietly.
“What do you think so far?” Dominic asked me.
I took a long sip of wine to give myself time to think. “Oh, it’s wonderful.”
“It’s great,” he agreed.
“Very good. Classic.”
We stared at each other for a moment.
“You’re as bored as I am, aren’t you?” Dominic asked.
“Yes! I didn’t want to say anything but…”
He leaned close so nobody would hear. “It’s just okay. It’s nothing special.”
“I know the actors are trying their best but it’s just not convincing.”
Dominic laughed deeply and looked around the theater. “Want to get out of here?”
“But we still have half a show. You bought the tickets…”
He smirked at me. “Forget the tickets. Let’s go somewhere less stuffy.”
He took my hand and led me through the crowd to the front of the theater. “Excuse me, sir!” one usher called. “There’s no readmission!”
“Faster,” Dominic told me. “Before they catch us and tie us to our chairs!”
I laughed as we bolted through the doors and into the night.
Dominic drove me to a college bar a few blocks away. If we had felt out of place at the theater, we really stuck out in the bar. We grabbed a booth and ordered drinks. After a few minutes the rest of the bar customers stopped staring.
“I’m sorry the show wasn’t better,” Dominic told me.
“It’s not your fault! It was a good date idea. I’ve never been to a theater show before.”
Dominic tilted his head and smiled. “Me neither. First time.”
“Really?” I gestured with my beer. “You look like you wear that tuxedo to the theater every weekend.”
“Afraid not.”
&n
bsp; I leaned forward. “I’m trying to say you look good in it.”
He shrugged off the compliment. If anything, he looked embarrassed by it. “It wasn’t just the acting that was poor. The musical itself was lacking. France in the late nineteenth century? That’s a boring period.”
“Far less interesting than Roman history,” I agreed.
Dominic gestured like he was in front of a class. “What was the year they said? 1881? That’s smack-dab in the most boring part of French history. All the fun of the Napoleonic Wars is over, and the Great War is still decades away.”
“There’s the Franco-Prussian war!” I chimed in. “That was in the 1870s, right? Although I suppose it barely lasted a year, and it was too decisive of a victory to be interesting.”
Dominic’s blocky jaw tightened in a smile. “Now you’re speaking my language.”
“I know you teach classes on the World Wars,” I said. “But is that the type of history you prefer?”
“Generally, yes.”
“When did you become interested in history?”
He took a very long pull of beer. The glass looked small in his massive hand. “I grew up overseas. I was a military brat.”
“Which branch was your father in? Army, Navy…”
“None of the above. My mother was an administrator in the Army.”
I winced. “Damn. There go my feminism credentials.”
“We were stationed in Stuttgart. I lived there until we moved back to the states when I was seventeen. Growing up in Europe gave me a unique perspective on history. We took trips all around Europe to visit famous battle sites. Especially in France. I visited the beaches in Normandy. All five—not just the two American landing sites, but the British and Canadian ones as well. The idea that so many men had fought and died right there… It intrigued me. It was horrifying too, but I was fascinated by how horrible humanity can be. I enjoy teaching people about those periods of history because they’re the most important to remember.”
“The World Wars were a special kind of terrible,” I said.
“That they were.”
“I’ve been watching the Great War series on YouTube,” I said. “The one you recommended.”
